Blackballed
by J.Rease
Summary: Santana has a secret that Rachel finds out about. Rachel uses it to her advantage. Santana will do her bidding for three months. Not a day more. Prompt fill. Girlpeen. Please read Authors Note.


Title: Blackballed

Author: J Rease  
Rating: M  
Disclaimer: These characters are the sole property of glee. I make no monies from this.

Summary: Santana has a secret that Rachel finds out about. Rachel uses it to her advantage. Santana will do her bidding for three months. Not a day more. Prompt fill. Girlpeen.

Author's Note: AU. This fic is set during sophomore year, when everyone still hated Rachel (I'm pretending that everyone is a sixteen year old sophomore) No Finchel, No St. Berry, no baby gate. So, somewhere between Hairography and Mattress, right before Sectionals. Got a prompt from my reader Alice through my website, I hope she likes the fill.

Prompt: San has a girlpeen. Rachel finds out. This leads to Rachel blackmailing Santana into popularity. At a party, Rachel gets wasted; Santana has to take her home. Rachel, feelin lonely, propositions virgin!Santana for sex. Happy ending? Maybe sweetness/Romance. But definitely one solid smut scene.

I had a frustrating time writing this prompt fill- I hated it and rewrote it a few times and I still don't like it all that much. Thanks to Lauren and Shade Asylum for talking me out of scrapping this one. This is the closest I can write to Porn Without Plot.

Also, I am shuffling the prompt requests from Tumblr, ffnet and my personal site. Next up will be a Brittana fic called Pound for Pound (Trigger Warning; Eating Disorders), after that will be Birthday Wish Prompt Fill for a wonderful reader name TBA (Faberry girlpeen).

Please review (like seriously I want to know what you guys think)

Blackballed

Schuester's voice interrupts her daydreaming (because really, who listens to this man when he's yapping his pie hole? It's hard to hear him over the screams of his drowning hair follicles- she usually just waits for the hand clap). It takes a minute for Santana to register the shocked sounds of multiple people gasping, and Brittany's hand is resting on her knee in warning. She's not really following what's happened in the last five minutes so she forces herself to look up from her nail filing (she cares about how her hands look, shut up); and she faces the terrified looks people are shooting her way.

"What? Why are you all looking at me like I just used a giant pitch fork to floss the tots out of Aretha's jowls?"

"Nobody's afraid of you Satan." Santana can practically hear the flutter of Mercedes' eye roll.

Santana ignores the comment (next time it's on, though) before Manhands flips her hair annoyingly and turns to face her.

"Had you a modicum of respect for glee, you would have been paying attention when Mr. Schue was talking to hear that he partnered us up to be roommates for the weekend."

She's reminded of the stupid scouting trip Glee has to take this weekend to spy (she means do research-her eyes roll instinctively), on the team they are up against for Sectionals. There's no way in hell Schuester thinks he's going to get her anywhere near Rachel Berry's Hobbit hole-

"Like hell we are! Why can't I room with Brittany?"

Schue sighs, gripping the edges of his papers.

"Santana, I went over this already. There is too much animosity between all of you. I'm tired of all the fighting and the lack of cohesion I see from you guys. Miss Pilsbury will be chaperoning the trip, and we will make sure your rooming arrangements remain in place-"

"I'm not rooming with Berry. Period. You can find some other illegitimate reason to bring along your ginger haired pony."

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"If you don't room with your assigned roommate, I will take it as your resignation from the team."

Schue turns to write some unimportant lesson on the white board that doesn't make any sense, and he doesn't leave an opening for her to answer his stupid ultimatum. She feels Brittany's hand squeeze her knee at the same time she moves her mouth to tell greasy haired weirdo that she quits. She scoffs, sitting back in the seat as Brittany flashes her satisfied smile.

Whatever happens to that little tranny this weekend is definitely Schuester's fault.

. . . ( ) . . .

Buttfuck Ohio, the place really exists. And somehow, Schuester dragged the entire glee club out there to bond or some crap. She doubts that actually happens, but whatever. She stays away from room 206 all day. Last time she checked, Rachel was listening to her iPod on one of the double beds. The dwarf manages to stay out of her way, and Santana notices how quiet Berry has been. It's unnerving, but Santana guesses she should be excited that the little person isn't grabbing onto her ankles and begging her for attention. Santana, on the other hand, has been hiding in Brittany and Mercedes' room most of the day. Quinn and Tina have actually been hanging out in the room down the hall, and to say that Santana is annoyed at that would be an understatement. A knock on the door interrupts her painting Britt's toenails.

"Okay girls, it's getting close to lights out. We have a lot to do tomorrow. Santana, I believe you're supposed to bunk in 206?"

Miss Pilsbury finds a way to be politely annoying and it bothers Santana. She rolls her eyes and turns to face the extremely large eyed creature before capping off her nail polish and pushing her way out of the room. She trudges past Mr. Schue who is standing outside of Puck and Artie's room (where it seems most of the boys have congregated), and down the hall to where she's supposedly sleeping.

The lights are out. It's not even eleven yet, and she can hear the quiet breathing coming from the bump on Berry's bed. Santana decides that it's best not to wake sleeping trolls, and on her way to the bathroom, she grabs her bag.

. . . ( ) . . .

Santana wears sweats to bed. Well, she usually does. In the comfort of her own bedroom it is usually cool and comfortable. Santana hates sleeping in heat. It's too cold outside to open one of the giant sliding windows. The thermostat on the wall has seemingly only two settings; on, or off. When Santana does try to slide it to the off position, the handle stops midway and she growls angrily before nearly stomping back into the bathroom.

She tugs down and kicks off her sweats, and she rummages through her bag to see if she brought any appropriate sleeping attire. She only has boxers, which would be fine if she had nothing to hide.

But she does.

She only feels her heartbeat race a little faster before she calms herself down. She thinks again about sleeping in her sweat pants, but she knows she'll wake up cranky if she sweats in her sleep. She could make this an excuse to find another room to sleep in, but it's nearly twelve and she has a feeling that the Pilsbury Virgin Lady is sound asleep.

She sits on the edge of the bath tub.

Her boxers won't leave any room for modesty. If she wakes up without sheets, Rachel could sneak a peek at the biggest secret Santana has been keeping. _Her penis_. Santana sighs. If there was anyone at McKinley that she didn't want to find out, it would be Rachel. Big mouth Berry wouldn't be able to keep her trap shut, and that would be the end of her.

Santana slips on her boxers and leaves the bathroom. Santana assumes that she can wake up before Rachel and handle any problems hanging out of her shorts (she snickers), she stops laughing long enough to slip beneath the thankfully cool sheets. She chances a look at Rachel, who hasn't moved from her position at the middle of the bed. She sees the white ear buds hanging loosely around Rachel's neck, and Santana feels comfortable enough to relax in her own bed. The little twerp looks exhausted. She sets her phone alarm for 7 am, and she tries to fall asleep.

. . . ( ) . . .

Santana wakes up wet and panting. Her lungs are racing along with her heartbeat and she feels..._spent_. She doesn't open her eyes. At first, she's confused. Her alarm didn't go off, it's too early. She wants to fall back to sleep, honestly, but the ebb and pulse from her lower half tells her that she definitely won't be able to get back to whatever wet dream she'd been having. Santana opens her eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the low light in the hotel room.

That's when she realizes that she's being watched.

Rachel is sitting up on the bed beside her, she's gripping the edge of her mattress and she's biting her bottom lip. Rachel is fully dressed, shoeless in her knee socks as she swings her feet a few inches above the floor. She looks like she's been up for a while, if the almost empty tea cup on their shared bedside table is any indicator. There is one light on by the doorway to their room; one Rachel must have turned on whenever she got up to get dressed. Santana wipes the sleep from her face, a snarky insult culminating in her brain; but something stops the scathing remark from touching the air.

_She woke up wet. _ It's hot. She's being watched. Santana doesn't remember when she kicked off the sheets, but she is sure her dick is still hard enough that she can't pretend that it's not there at all. And with the dream she'd been having, she's sure she wasn't necessarily quiet either. And Rachel, Rachel is staring downward. Her eyes are fixed to what Santana is sure is the bulge in her shorts. Santana only hopes she isn't coming out of the opening. She stands abruptly, her back facing Rachel and she storms into the bathroom; collapsing against the door when she finally manages to lock it behind her.

Shit.

She wishes that she could deny everything. Call Berry a few names and walk away without her getting a word in; but she knows she can't. Her boxers are wet at a tale tale spot and she's sure Rachel knows what happened- regardless of how oblivious she usually is about sex. Santana takes off her ruined underwear and steps into the shower, hoping the midget wants to drop whatever she saw by the time she gets clean.

. . . ( ) . . .

When Santana emerges from the bathroom almost forty minutes later, Rachel is still sitting on her bed; albeit with a second cup of tea. It's still early enough that her alarm hasn't gone off, but Santana's wide awake as she sits down on her own bed, rubbing her hands down the tops of her jeans. She might as well get this over with.

"Look, Berry, whatever you saw-"

Rachel sets her tea down.

"Santana before you speak, I've already had plenty of time to think of exactly what to say to you."

Rachel stands, smoothing down her skirt before beginning to pace in the space between their beds.

"Before you threaten me, I would like to establish that I am in a position of power here. While I respect a person's right to confidentiality, I find that you are a person who's never garnered any of my respect. Consequently, I find myself in a position to bargain with you."

Santana scoffs.

"Whatever, Berry. No one would believe you no matter what you said or did. I'm me, and you're you- I'm hot, you're not. No one is going to believe anything you say about me-"

Rachel laughs. It's an odd sound. Sounds like bitter resentment and joy all balled up into a garble of victory. It makes Santana a bit nervous.

"I don't need to say or do anything. All it would take is one email. One picture to JBI of you in a compromising position. A picture I took this morning when I woke up to the sounds of you touching yourself in your sleep. Like I said; I find myself in a position to bargain with you."

"Yea, well, I find myself in a position to punch you in the face." It's not a good comeback, but she's desperate to appear as cool as she usually is; the little Leprechaun is actually getting to her.

Rachel laughs again, sitting back down on her mattress and picking up her tea. She sips for an agonizingly long minute, the silence ticking like a bomb in Santana's ears. Her body deflates, and she feels her shoulders sag as she meets Rachel's eyes.

"What do you want? For the picture?"

Rachel sets her tea down again and crosses her legs. Her hand rests on her knee and she bites her lip like she's thinking. Santana sits impatiently, fear bubbling at the pit of her stomach. She wants to pummel the little brat; but she knows first she has to get Rachel to hand over the evidence of her not so little secret.

"I'm not one to out someone, Santana. I have two gay fathers and I respect the journey it takes to be comfortable enough to tell other people who you really are. It's not about humiliation- even though you've publically humiliated me countless times. It's not even about payback. All I want from you in order to keep this quiet- is your friendship."

Santana would be laughing in Rachel's face if the girl hadn't threatened to pull the carpet from beneath her feet.

"No- not even; not ever!"

Santana crosses her arms over her chest. She knows her head is shaking before she registers the feeling. Rachel's shoulders deflate, immediately after she straightens them.

"Well then I guess everyone will find out how..." Rachel looks her up and down slowly, her tongue taps against the roof of her mouth when her eyes land on her groin. "...different you really are."

Rachel stands, abruptly walking the length of the bed before she finds her shoes. Santana loses her resolve to stay stubborn just as Rachel reaches for the door handle.

"Wait-"

Rachel stops, tension stiffening her back.

"What are your terms, Hobbit?"

Rachel walks slowly back to her bed, sitting down softly.

"First. No more name calling. No slushies. No pranks. You call off your jocks. I sit with you at your lunch table or you sit with me at mine three times a week. Every party you get invited to, I do as well."

Santana has heard about Rachel Berry's ambition. She's heard about what Berry did to get Ryerson fired; she heard about the sabotage of a few drama geeks for a spot in a school play. Santana never expected to get the brunt of Berry's vindictive side. She shakes her head.

"You're asking way too much, Berry. Who's going to believe that we're miraculously besties? And what do I tell Q and Britts? That I let Rachel Freakin Berry into the in crowd because she got a Polaroid of my dick? Who are you foolin, Manhands? Either way I lose my rep."

Rachel looks angry. For a minute, Santana almost regrets what she just said. But then the minute passes and she feels confident that she could get the girl to drop this nonsense.

"Well if that's the case, I hope you feel a _fraction_ of what you've put me through. When they find out, I hope they slushy you. I hope they pour personal lubricant into your backpack and write slurs on **your** locker! And when the day comes when you can't take it anymore, I hope you think back to this moment. I hope you realize how much easier being my friend would have been as opposed to being outed as a transgendered person."

Rachel is standing by the time she finishes speaking, and the girl turns on her heel at the last word and stomps off with a disgruntled "harrumph". Santana doesn't feel guilty. Picking on Rachel is everyone's favorite pastime. The girl doesn't make it hard to pick her out of the crowd. Her getting bullied is more her own fault than Santana's (okay, mostly her own fault; and maybe a bit of Quinn's fault when she slushied Rachel by mistake the first day of freshman year. But whatever). Santana sighs; swallowing back the regret she's going to feel when she opens her mouth.

"Intersexed...I'm intersexed. Look- I get it. Payback is a bitch. I'd congratulate you on getting evidence if you weren't pissing me off right now. And you're right. It'll be easier to turn you into someone normal than it would be for me to bounce back from a hit like that. So fine... Rachel, I'll do it."

Santana has to grind her teeth to get the words out. Rachel beams. Santana takes a step back in case the Munchkin wants to hug or something.

"But on a few conditions."

Rachel nods but doesn't speak.

"First, I handle Q and Britt. They don't- they don't know about me okay? It has to stay that way. They're my girls-but I can't trust Q as far as I can throw that bitch and Britt has a hard time keeping secrets. Second, I sit with you at lunch two times a week until I deem you cool enough to sit at my table. Three, don't approach me in the halls, don't sit beside me in class. I can stop the slushies but I can't call off the jocks; they hate you for their own reasons-"

Rachel rolls her eyes but nods in understanding.

"I'm giving you three months, Berry. Not a day more. You have to wear clothes that don't burn my retinas; don't call me, don't text me. We don't hang out outside of school and I'll get you into parties as long as you let me dress you. When the three months is over, you get rid of the picture. You delete all digital copies and you never bring this up again. Everything after that is on you. If you find a way to mess up after this is over, don't come running back to me."

Rachel nods again, and after a moment she holds her hand out for Santana to shake.

"And the name calling doesn't stop from me, _Treasure Trail_. That's just how I roll."

Rachel's hand falters momentarily, but when Santana reaches her hand out a moment later, Rachel's shake firm and sure.

Shit, this was going to be a long three months.

. . . ( ) . . .

The first week isn't as hard as she thought it would be. Santana bans all use of argyle in Berry's wardrobe, and they squabble long and hard over the knee socks. In the end, Rachel looks exactly like she had before; just now in solid and pastel freaking colors. Santana's a genius. Sitting with the girl at lunch paused the entire room simultaneously (okay, not really, everyone kind of looked at them in waves, and most of them looked away when Santana threw a few scowls). Today she meets Rachel outside the lunch room, and they take their trays to the choir room since Santana doesn't feel like everyone staring in her face. They eat in silence, until Berry decides that she can't bite her tongue any longer.

"I've been... I've been thinking about something since last week. Maybe you could...clarify."

Santana finishes chewing the leaves from her salad. _God, she hates Sue's dietary restrictions_.

"Spit it out Manhands, I'm sure you'll bug me until I answer anyway."

Rachel straightens in her chair, crossing her legs at the ankles before clearing her throat.

"Well, I-I was wondering how you maintain your...reputation, while remaining a virgin."

Santana checks over her shoulder and behind Rachel to make sure the doors are closed.

"Who says I'm a virgin, Berry?"

Rachel quirks her head before nodding at Santana's question.

"I'm sorry for my assumption, I just thought since no one knows about your...anatomical differences, that you were still a virgin."

Santana doesn't know why she decides to answer Berry's question, but her answer surprises her as it tumbles out of her mouth.

"There are other things to do besides sex, Berry. And I just never deny what a guy says we did. Makes things easier, ya know, never saying no."

Rachel nods, and resumes eating a sandwich that has no actual meat on it (who even does that?). The silence sulks by, and Rachel breaks it again, this time to ask a question Santana is sure has been eating at her.

"Is it really that hard, to tolerate me?"

Santana shrugs, buying time with a mouthful of lettuce. She doesn't like how it feels like glass as she swallows it.

"Why are we talking, Hobbit?"

"I'm sorry, I just thought it'd be easier to pretend we were friends if we actually talked every once in a while"

Rachel stops talking, but Santana hates the kicked puppy look Rachel shoots at her when the midget thinks she's not looking. She sighs and puts down her food before speaking.

"No. When your clothes don't scream ugly and you don't shove your talent down people's throats; you're bearable. But that's all you're getting out of me, smurf."

Santana hates that stupid smirk Rachel wears through the rest of their lunch period.

. . . ( ) . . .

"But why are you hanging out with her, I mean, she's _Rachel Berry?_"

Santana rolls her eyes.

"... I just- we hung out on that weekend trip. She's kind of cool when she shuts up. I even convinced her not to dress like an illegal sex slave on the Chinese market. Look, I'm not saying that you have to be friends with her-"

"Friends with who?"

Brittany comes up from behind her, linking their pinkies in the process.

"Rachel. We're talking about Rachel."

Brittany smiles.

"Oh, she's okay. I mean, she talks at me like I'm a kid, but she's nicer than most of the people here. She's never called me stupid to my face before. We should all be friends. That way Quinn doesn't have to pretend that she hates her so much."

Quinn growls, balling her fists up.

"Whatever. But when she brings you down the ladder, don't say I didn't warn you."

Santana shrugs.

"Fine- will you quit ordering slushies?'

Quinn grabs her duffel bag.

"I'm going to find out what she has on you, San, so you might as well tell me.

Santana rolls her eyes again, this time with more annoyance.

"Will you call them off or what?"

Quinn goes to leave, throwing a quick, "I'll see what I can do," over her shoulder before leaving the locker room.

At least that part was over.

. . . ( ) . . .

She's in Rachel Berry's bedroom. A few weeks ago, the only reason she'd be in here would be for a prank against the diva. She's been in this room enough times over the past two months that it should totally _scare _her (there are even a few times Santana shows up out of boredom, in need of company—oddly enough, Berry can be entertaining). But she's sifting through Berry's closet for something for her to wear and she only finds a handful of dresses Berry can pull off at one Puck's infamous parties. Santana chooses a little black number, and tops it off with a pair of red bottoms Rachel had hidden beneath mounds of Mary Janes.

"Alright, this works, Berry. Mind if I get dressed in your bathroom?"

Rachel nods and pulls off the sweater she is wearing, Santana catches a snatch of abdomen just as the door closes (she notices a lot more of Rachel's physique than she can attribute to consequence these days). It's been just past two months since she's befriended the girl. The more time that passed, the more Santana realizes that Rachel isn't so bad as a friend (shut up, at least she acknowledges it). She finds more common ground than she does differences, and she even finds herself talking to the dwarf most of her weekends. She makes quick work of getting dressed, and opens the door just in time to catch Berry slipping on her shoes. She stares at the singer's legs for a quick moment (cause God, how can anyone be that tan in winter?) and shakes her head, walking barefoot to the bottle she left on Berry's vanity.

"Alright, smurf, these be the rules. Don't drink anything Puck gives you. Fill up a red solo cup with water and tell everyone it's gin if you don't want to drink. Don't come looking for me after we're in. I usually leave the party close to two. If you want a ride home be at my car by 1:30."

Rachel nods at her, and Santana can see the girl making lists in her head. Santana opens the bottle and throws back a swallow of vodka, before holding it out to a curious Rachel.

"This, my small, Lilliputian friend, is called pre-gaming."

"I don't really think I should drink..."

Santana snatches the bottle back and takes another swig.

"Suit yourself. We gots a half hour before we meet up with Q and Britt."

Rachel nods.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

Santana takes her last swig, and puts the bottle down (she has to drive, after all). She takes a seat beside Rachel on her bed.

"Shoot, Berry."

Rachel blushes slightly before facing forward, away from Santana.

"How can you wear dresses like that without... What I mean is, why doesn't your..._penis_ show?"

Santana laughs, and stands up in front of a reddening Rachel. She throws modesty to the wind (the girl saw her having a wet dream, Santana has nothing left to be shy about), and rolls her striped dress up to the waist.

"Padded underwear and a nice tuck and tape. Given I don't get a stiff one, I can pull it off."

She readjusts and sits back down. She doesn't question Rachel's lack of tact anymore. The girl's curiosity is refreshing in light of what she knows about Santana. Rachel rarely assumes anything about her, and consequently she finds herself answering Rachel's invasive personal questions. It's odd how easy she can talk to the girl. How easy it is to read the girl. Like now, Rachel sits with her hands twisted in her lap, indecision written on her face. Rachel takes a steadying breath before speaking.

"We should skip the party. I'm sure we can find something else to do."

The innuendo in the question peaks Santana's interest. Santana almost asks what other things they could do (come on, how could she not? Just..._wanky_) but she bites her tongue and keeps the inappropriate banter at a minimum.

"I thought you wanted the glitz and glamour of popularity?"

Rachel shrugs.

"I mean, I do. Of course I do. But it's cold out, and once we get there you'll leave me and- I've never been to a party before, at least here I'll have company all night. I'd even drink with you and we could watch a DVD?"

There's a nervous look on Rachel's face. Santana actually considers the night in. Laying on Berry's bed in the sweatpants she showed up in; watching old westerns on TV (Rachel seems to love them- a big surprise when Santana found out) doesn't sound like a bad night. Santana remembers then her promise to Quinn and Brittany about being their designated driver and she sighs, letting the quiet night fade in her head as quickly as it flashed before her eyes.

"Well, Berry, even though staying here and getting wasted sounds like an interesting night, I'm playing DD, so rein check that thought."

Rachel just nods, a fleeting melancholia veils her features before she puts a smile on her face (Santana can't help the pull she feels from somewhere in her chest- God she feels like such a sap). Santana falls backwards onto Rachel's bed, letting her arms flail out above her head before stretching. They've been spending a lot of time together; she feels comfortable in Rachel's space.

"So, elf, what do you want to do until it's time to go?"

Santana leans up on her elbows.

Rachel is looking at Santana over her shoulder. Her eyes look darker than usual. Rachel surprises her right after, pulling the bottle off the floor and swallowing a mouthful of liquor. She watches Rachel grimace, and Rachel speaks when her throat is clear of the burn.

"Gosh that's awful."

Santana chuckles. Rachel takes another mouthful before closing and setting down the bottle. Rachel lays out beside her, close enough that Santana only has to look down to get a glimpse of Rachel's face. They sit in silence for a few moments (Santana loves that Rachel can find comfort in silence. Sometimes the munchkin just can't find it in her to shut up-).

"Do you pee standing up?"

Like now. Santana leans her head on her palm to stare down at Rachel. She's definitely amused. Rachel's cheeks are rosy, more likely from her low tolerance to liquor than her embarrassment.

"Sitting down usually. I only stand up when I have to use the bathroom somewhere sketchy."

Rachel nods, her train of thought dawns on her face before she asks Santana another question.

"Are you circumcised?"

Santana definitely will have a bulge in her dress if this line of questioning continues with the smurf. Rachel looks genuinely interested, and Santana can't fathom how she could ask her these questions with a straight face. Santana actually doesn't care that Rachel's asking about her junk. She doesn't have anyone else to talk to other than her parents and her doctor, and she finds it refreshing that the first peer who knows about her isn't completely repulsed.

"What is this, twenty questions, midget?" Santana rocks on her bent palm when she nudges the girl. "And yes, I am circumcised. Why are you so interested in my schlong, Berry?"

Rachel actually blushes this time, looking away and biting back a bashful smile.

"I'm just...curious. I've never seen one up close and- I don't have guys lining up at my door so I thought maybe you could tell me." Rachel turns back to face Santana, her lip loosened from her teeth's grip.

Since their budding friendship, they've had countless conversations (shut up, Rachel's a good listener). Rachel usually has no tact, so Santana isn't surprised by her awkward curiosity. At the same time, Rachel rarely asks about her dick in context to anything other than how she hides it.

"Okay. A-anymore questions?" She doesn't know why she can't trust her voice. Her breath is shallow. Rachel's eyelashes are extremely long up close and Santana can't get the image of hovering over top of her in a different way. She backs up a bit, letting her elbow support her weight.

"Well, since you asked... How does it feel to get..._hard_? Does it hurt? Does it happen all at once or is it gradual?" Rachel is looking directly at her; like the questions she's asking aren't completely sexual. Santana's mouth is bone dry.

"It, uh, it aches in a good way; it's not painful, really. It's more like...an unavoidable pulse. And depending on how turned on I am it can be either."

"I want to feel it."

Just like that, Santana's mouth waters. God, she wouldn't mind Rachel feeling it. She actually sucks in an open mouthed breath to stop herself from drooling. Rachel saves face seconds after images flash across Santana's mind. She shakes her head, playing with her hands to avoid meeting Rachel's eyes.

"...feel the transition I mean, not necessarily _your penis_. Not that your penis isn't appealing. Your erection looked quite intimidating, to be honest. I mean- I have this insatiable need to know these things. There's only so much research I can do. People don't believe that girls want sex just as much as guys do- not that you're a guy, just that it's easier for you to become aroused. What I mean to say is that I wonder what it would be like to touch one; or see one actually."

Rachel's cheeks are flaming red by the time she finishes her rambling. Santana is sitting still in a mixture of arousal and amusement, finally brave enough to bring her gaze to meet Rachel's. Rachel's biting her lip, still on her back beneath her; toying with her hands. Santana can't help but notice how Rachel's cleavage is pushed up over the bust of her dress. Rachel sits up slowly, forcing Santana to lean away from her. Rachel sits up on the edge of the bed, gripping the side of the mattress.

"If I wanted to touch yours, would you let me?" Rachel tosses another look over her shoulder and Santana sits up. Rachel looks forward, and Santana's answer catches in her throat.

Santana isn't at all shocked by the immediate "Hell yes" her brain wants answers with. She would definitely let Rachel touch her dick (for scientific purposes of course). She knows where this conversation could lead and she isn't ashamed one bit at the game of _show me yours and I'll show you mine_ her head tells her will immediately result if she answers that question honestly. Santana clears her throat.

The shrill ring of her cell phone interrupts her answer, and she throws a finger up at Rachel before sliding it open. It's Quinn, and it's time to leave, and Santana lets the question stay unanswered for the sake of actually getting to the party (because the idea of someone other than her touching her dick would definitely take priority over Puck's party). She stands up, and away from Rachel before tossing a quick, "That's our cue. It's time to go."

Santana notices the shaky swig Rachel takes before following Santana out of the room.

. . . ( ) . . .

The car ride is awkward to say the least. Santana loses Rachel as soon as they cross the threshold of Puck's house. The dwarf manages to disappear beneath crowds of normal sized people. Santana grabs a wine cooler and makes her rounds. The night passes in a blur of cheesy games and loud music. Santana doesn't know what Rachel is up to until she stumbles upon it. The dance floor is only half full; most of the people seem to be drinking around the throngs of partygoers bold enough to gyrate to the music.

She can't explain what she's seeing, at first. Rachel can't be dancing with _Sasquatch_. When they swing around, Santana notices a fully intoxicated Rachel Berry grinding into a very uncomfortable looking Finn Hudson. Santana ignores Finn's _I'm jizzing my pants _face (because really, it shouldn't happen every single freaking time- and Rachel can't even reach that high to rub against any part of him to garner that reaction, _whatever_) and she walks up to them with her hands balled into fists.

"Berry, what are you doing?"

Santana can't really explain why she's upset. Seeing Rachel actually let loose should be entertaining- but with Goliath dancing (if you can call it that), behind her she finds she only wants to deck the boy.

"I'm having fun, Santana. I don't need a chaperone."

She grinds her teeth. She almost walks away. She almost lets Berry have her drunken, disappointing experience with Finnept. But then he opens his mouth.

"Yea, Santana. Leave her alone we were having a great time before you showed up." Finn's sweating is completely unattractive. Rachel must be wasted.

She hates this douche. She really does. She pulls calmly at Rachel's hand and looks her straight in the eye.

"You might not need a chaperone, Berry, but you might wind up doing something you regret."

Rachel rolls her eyes. Santana doesn't know when Rachel got this annoyed with her (or why she's this annoyed with her in the first place).

"Santana seriously-"

"No, Berry, I might not be in charge of what you do, but I'm your friend I don't want to see you make this kind of mistake. You look like you had a bit too much to drink. Let me take you home."

Rachel stares at her like she just told her that Barbra Streisand cloned herself to make a collaboration album. Santana straightens. Rachel fixes her face and pulls her hand away from Santana's (Santana didn't realize she was still holding it).

"While I appreciate your concern, I think I can handle myself. Maybe I will get Finn to take me _home_."

Santana rolls her eyes. _Whatever_. She didn't sign up to be a babysitter. Santana can't help but feel like she's angry for a slew of other reasons. She also can't help but think of Rachel finding out the answers to her dick questions with Finnocence (and being extremely let down).

"I doubt Hudson could get anywhere near close to home with you, Berry. But whatever. Suit yourself."

Santana ignores the strange looks she gets from a lot of the people standing around the dance floor. She shoulders her way back to Britt and sulks for a good majority of the night. It's nearing midnight when Puck finds her sitting alone, a nearly shitfaced Rachel giggling at his side.

"I found her singing show tunes on my mom's sewing table. So, take her home. If her dads find out she got wasted at my house they're going to tell my Nana."

Santana thinks she should leave her there (serves her right).

"Not my problem, Puckerman. Why don't you take her home?"

Puck nudges Rachel into Santana's arms.

"No can do, Lopez. If I remember correctly, you were the one who begged me to let her come. So she's your responsibility. I'll get my man Mike to take Brittany and Quinn home. You just make sure Berry's pops don't get wind of who got her shit faced."

Santana sighs. She's just about sober; the two wine coolers she allowed herself earlier in the night had already burned off in the course of her brooding. She shoots a text to Quinn and Britt before she leads Rachel back to her car, the stumbling girl giggles all the way into her seat belt.

Santana drives back to her house in silence, checking on a dozing Berry (apparently it's past her bedtime-Keebler elves are usually asleep by ten) in the seat beside her every other stop sign. Getting Rachel in the house takes another twenty minutes (Rachel insists that it's too cold to get out of the car) but Santana makes it up the stairs supporting half of Rachel's weight inside her leather jacket before letting her slide onto her bed. Santana's annoyed. She almost convinces herself to head back to the party, but Rachel sits up and rubs her face before kicking off her shoes and wobbling into the bathroom. Santana hears the water running and sighs, deciding to stay in and make sure Berry doesn't vomit on her carpet (she's not that much of a bitch—the party was lame anyway). She pulls off her underwear and peels back the medical tape holding her to thigh before pulling on a pair of sweats and tossing her dress toward her hamper. She finds a t-shirt just as the water stops, and Rachel reemerges fresh faced just as Santana's back settles against the headboard.

Rachel has this silly smile on her face that makes Santana a little _nervous. _She sways toward Santana's bed; gracefully for someone who's supposedly drunk. Rachel sits beside her, and Santana gets a whiff of shampoo as Rachel leans her head on Santana's shoulder. She hates that all the anger has dissipated she was hell bent on holding a grudge at least until tomorrow. Santana's hands are folded in her lap and she stretches her legs out toward the foot of the bed.

"_Santana_?" The 'hmmm' rumbles from Santana's throat in response. Rachel continues. "You're not mad are you? That you had to leave?"

Santana wants to see Rachel's face for some reason.

"I'm not mad...well not anymore. Thought you weren't drinking, though—"

Santana smirks when Rachel nudges her side.

"I didn't realize the punch was spiked until Finn gave me my third cup. I don't feel drunk, I just feel… _giddy_."

Santana's stomach feels _giddy (God, where were these feelings coming from?)_. She should be upset with her, but Santana couldn't help but feel a little sorry for the hangover she is sure Rachel will have tomorrow. Silence overcomes them, and they sit together in the quiet for a few moments.

"_So we're friends now_?"

Santana thinks before she speaks. Somewhere inside her wants to answer yes immediately. Somewhere else chants that it's all forced- somehow tainted. She knows that a big part of her hesitance comes with the fact that it was the first time she really acknowledged that this goes past the stupid blackmail and everything else. She exhales, and lets her answer out with honesty.

"_Sort of._ If we aren't now, we will be I guess. Why?"

Rachel lifts her head slowly. She leans away from Santana, her lip pinched beneath her teeth. Santana didn't realize when her heart started chugging, racing toward some ending that made it feel like it would pop in her chest. Rachel's hand loiters to where Santana's hands rest in her lap. Rachel's fingertips graze deftly over Santana's skin and Santana feels her breath catch... hitch…release. Rachel looks at her and falters slowly into her personal space to kiss her. It's sloppy and slow and Santana doesn't really care because Rachel's mouth feels like liquid adrenaline against hers; a heavy, persistent _rush_. Rachel's hands move faster than Santana can stop them, and Santana's head tilts into Rachel's embrace as they deepen the kiss; this time with purpose. A hot tongue flicks out past smiling lips to caress Santana's bottom lip and she doesn't care about thinking anymore. Rachel is sitting up and hiking her dress up over her thighs so she can spread them out in a 'V' over Santana's legs. Her mouth is still moving against Santana's; it's getting hotter and wetter and Santana is getting harder and her hands can't help but rest on Rachel's waist and just… _**grip**_. _What are they doing? _She doesn't want to stop, but alarm bells ring distantly in her ears._ God, they have to stop. _She pulls away from Rachel's mouth and her head hits the headboard behind her with an audible 'thud'.

"What are we doing, Rachel?"

Rachel ignores her question and busies herself with the skin on Santana's neck. Santana's hands grip tighter at Rachel's waist and her body reacts to having Rachel on her lap. She's doing this thing with her tongue that Santana has no definition for but it makes her leg jerk and her eyes flutter closed without permission.

She has to remember to breathe or she'll choke on the air stuck in her throat.

Her hips buck when Rachel sucks on her ear and Rachel grinds down with a slow half swivel of her hip and Santana can't stop the moan that crawls up her throat when Rachel lets go and blows air on her wet earlobe.

"Don't say no, Santana. You never say no."

Santana's eyes flutter open, and she stares at Rachel, flushed and aggressive and sexy in her lap. She doesn't want to say no. _ God, she really doesn't want to say no. _Rachel leans forward to kiss her indecision away and Santana presses against her waist to keep her still. They have to stop. She might never say no, but Santana has enough self-control to stop what's about to happen. Or so she thinks. Rachel rubs directly over the length of her shaft, and Santana has to bite her tongue hard to keep her composure.

"You've been drinking, Rachel, we can't do this."

Rachel stops. She sits back far enough for Santana to see her pout and Santana reaches a hand out to push back Rachel's hair.

"But I want to have sex with you."

Rachel whispers it. Santana has to gulp back the 'yes' that threatens to leap off her tongue (It's hard to say no to a Berry in your lap).

"No, we can't. Look, Rachel I don't know where this came from—"

Rachel shoots her an indignant look.

"Don't do that! Don't make it seem like I'm too intoxicated to make rational decisions. Don't make it seem like this isn't something I wanted before tonight."

Rachel tries to swallow the comment like a hiccup, an intake of air that she takes back too fast and Rachel's hand goes to her chest to stop the impact of her confession.

"Why didn't you tell me before tonight then, dwarf? Why now? And if that's so true why were you dry humping Finnocence at the party?"

Santana hates that there is no venom in the moniker; it comes out more like an endearment and she curses herself. Rachel fixes her face with a look of determination. There is an unstoppable look in Rachel's eyes that Santana hasn't seen before. Santana licks her lips and waits for her answer.

"I was upset. I thought that what I was feeling was mutual. I used Finn to rile you up and you threw me off kilter when you admitted in front of everyone that we're friends. I wasn't sure, until now. And now I know that you aren't my friend because I'm blackmailing you; but because you want to be. Not because you have to be… I feel like I can tell you that I like you. I want to do this. With you."

"Rachel... This seems like a good idea now, but tomorrow you'll be pissed I didn't stop you from making a drunken mistake-"

Rachel leans forward and steals Santana's lips. Santana forgets the rest of what she has to say (she hates that she can't think when Rachel's kissing her) because Rachel's hands hold her head in place as she kisses her. Santana kisses back when a growl rips from Rachel's throat (it's like a call to action, something in the ferocity of the sound forces Santana to comply) and her hands grip at Rachel's waist when the smaller girl begins rocking on her lap.

All the guys (and Brittany) that Santana has fooled around with didn't prepare her for this. Santana usually calls the shots. She usually sets the pace and stops the madness. But Rachel is taking control now and Santana can only follow her lead as Rachel rocks on her lap. Back and forth and back and forth; Santana can only concentrate on the warm snatch of panties that rubs against her erection as Rachel gyrates. _God they have to stop_. She wraps her arm around Rachel's waist to stop her movement. She and Rachel are closer now, pressed together at the chest and meeting at the mouth. Santana, with all the self-control she might have left, pulls away from her, a question resting on the tip of her tongue.

"Why me?"

Rachel's cheeks are crimson. Her lips are swollen and Santana has to stop herself from sucking Rachel's bottom lip. She bites her own instead.

"Why are you making this so hard Santana, I'm giving myself to you. All you have to do is _take it_."

Rachel moves on Santana's lap suggestively and Santana bites her lip again to quell the comment climbing up her throat. _She wants to take it, it's hard _**not**_ to take it but this isn't right (When did she grow morals?). _ Rachel leans close to her and wraps her arms loosely around Santana's neck before whispering in her ear.

"I want you to have it, Santana. I've never been this wet before in my life... Do you want to feel it?"

Santana chokes (who wouldn't want to feel _that_?). She sputters and pulls Rachel tighter to her as she covers her cough.

"Rachel you're drunk. And as appealing as that sounds...we're both virgins. It would be a hot mess that you'd regret tomorrow. You're drunk and I'm not and it wouldn't be fair to take you up on that offer-"

"I am not that drunk! And I know you want to, I can feel you too." Rachel drives her point home by adjusting on her lap.

"I want this Santana. You make me feel comfortable in my own skin. You're my friend. You're my_ first real friend_. We hang out and we talk and you try to act like you don't like me but I know you do. Friends trust each other with everything, right? I want my first time to be special. And I want it to be special for you too. I know you like me the way I like you-"

Santana was just getting used to admitting that she liked having Berry around. And now the girl was throwing in all these feelings; Santana isn't sure she's ready to admit to wanting to be with her that way. She feels like she needs to wrangle this conversation away from where it's headed.

"You don't know that, actually. Don't assume anything Berry." Santana lets her arms drop from Rachel's waist. She hopes it makes Rachel angry. She hopes it forces her to back off and storm out or something. If anything at all, Santana wants Rachel to feel like she did earlier when she was dancing with Finessa. If Rachel doesn't stop they're going to wind up having sex (if Rachel doesn't stop Santana is going to wind up catching feelings). Rachel looks only mildly annoyed (but still fiercely dedicated to proving her point). She pulls Santana's arms back up to her waist and she rubs Santana's cheek with the pad of her thumb.

"I _do_ know; no assumption necessary. If you didn't like me the way I like you, you wouldn't have let me kiss you. You wouldn't sit with me in the choir room during lunch and text me good morning and goodnight. You wouldn't have stayed here with me to make sure I was okay. That was never a part of the deal. Really becoming my friend was never a part of the deal. If you didn't like me, Santana, you wouldn't have gotten upset at me dancing with Finn tonight."

Santana quirks an eyebrow.

_"Whatever, Berry- you don't know shit."_

Rachel doesn't break eye contact. Rachel's chest is heaving, and Santana can feel the air tickling her mouth.

"You're not turned on right now? You weren't earlier at my house? You didn't find music to play in the car so you could avoid answering my question? Is this me wanting things too much, because you need to tell me now before I get my feelings hurt, Santana. I don't care how intoxicated I might be right now but what I think about you is sober."

It's quiet.

"This isn't supposed to happen, Rachel. We are supposed to get through these three months and forget all this ever happened. I'm not- I don't do feelings."

Rachel sits back on Santana's lap. She takes a deep breath before releasing it. The warm air touches Santana's face and she closes her eyes. She's not supposed to like Rachel Berry.

"I've wanted you for a while now. I- ever since that first night you've been all I can think about."

Rachel plays with the drawstring on Santana's sweatpants.

"And I can't stop thinking about you. And the more I get to know you the more I realize that I like you- the real you. Sometimes, I even... I even dream about us being together this way."

More silence.

"... Santana if you're going to crush my spirits please do it before I make a bigger fool of myself."

Santana can't deny thinking of the girl that way; she can't deny the wet dreams Rachel inspired after certain conversations. Santana can't deny that she's at least _attracted_ to her. Santana also realizes that she enjoys Rachel's company; and that she likes having her around. Santana even notices that she misses Rachel when she's not there; that she might miss Rachel when this whole deal they have going is over. Santana's fingertips move slowly up Rachel's thighs. She doesn't say anything; she just lets her hands glide up Rachel's legs until her palms hit the fabric that is bunched over the top of Rachel's hips. She begins pushing at the soft cloth, letting it roll up Rachel's body until Santana can pull it over her head and fling it across the room. She kisses Rachel on the mouth, and she scoots to the end of the bed with her still in her lap. She detangles their limbs and goes to her dresser. She finds Rachel one of her biggest t-shirts and tosses it to the confused girl sitting in her underwear on her bed.

"We're going to sleep. If you sleep off the liquor and still feel this way tomorrow, we'll talk."

Santana hates doing the right thing sometimes. She could have just as easily taken what the girl had offered her, but for someone who never says no, she understands when it's the right time to.

"Will you sleep next to me at least?" Rachel says it as she pulls the t-shirt over her head.

Santana just nods.

. . . ( ) . . .

When Santana cracks open an eye the next morning, Rachel is knocked out beside her, drooling on her favorite pillow (totally adorable and totally unattractive at the same time). She unravels their body parts and makes her way to her bathroom, using it before brushing her teeth and grabbing the necessary hangover remedies. She sets things on the table beside Rachel before settling back into the bed (it's Saturday, she's getting her sleep).

The next time she wakes up, she feels soft lips pressing just below her ear. Of course, she thinks she's dreaming, but suddenly, there is a weight settling over her and something is straddling her thighs and she usually doesn't notice how hard she is when she's dreaming.

She opens one eye. Rachel is above her, her mouth moving down the slope of her neck. She smiles, letting an appreciative grumble tumble up her throat. Rachel leans away from her with flushed cheeks, dressed only in her underwear and Santana's oversized t-shirt.

"I'm completely sober. Want to talk?"

Rachel takes her earlobe in her mouth, sucking it into her ear and Santana covers the groan that comes out by clearing of her throat.

"That's not talking, Rachel."

Rachel pulls away immediately, pouting.

"Well, do you want to talk?"

Santana sighs.

"Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, we can't take it back. It'll probably hurt and be a big ball of suck and you'll regret it. I'm not good with feelings and this won't mean that suddenly we're a couple."

"Whatever it is, Santana, I want to do this. I'm sure. I like you. I like you a lot and I want this with you..." Rachel takes a deep breath, "... And I want this to be special- I want to feel special. And out of anyone I could pick to make me feel special...I would pick you. I trust you."

"We have time, Berry... We don't have to rush right into that; there are other things to do besides sex."

Rachel ponders that for a moment.

"Have you ever been completely certain about something?"

Santana shrugs.

"Well, I am. I'm certain about Broadway, and reaching my goals. I'm sure I will make it to New York and I'm sure that when I remember my first time... I want it to be with you. I'm not afraid, I don't have doubts. I'm completely sober...and I'm yours if you'll have me."

She takes a stable breath. Rachel is still on her lap and Santana can't think of any base she hasn't covered. Berry wants it, and even though she isn't ready to admit what exactly she wants- Santana does know that she can do this for Rachel- with her.

"Okay."

Rachel searches her face for a few moments before pulling off the extra-large t-shirt she slept in. She leans back, pulling on the hem of Santana's favorite Bob Marley t-shirt. She pulls it off like a band aid, and falls in to kiss Santana_. _Rachel is suddenly in charge, moving and wiggling and just rubbing against Santana in all kinds of delectable ways. Santana's hands move slowly over the parts of Rachel's body that aren't hampered by underwear. She rakes her fingernails down the column of Rachel's spine, stopping at the waistband of her panties. Rachel pulls at Santana's neck and Santana lifts forward; Rachel's hands dart down to unclasp the hooks of Santana's bra. Things are advancing in a flurry of movement; and Santana's bra is dragged down her arms by Rachel's nimble fingers.

Rachel audibly gasps.

Santana's entire body is warm. Rachel's hands reach out to cup her, and Santana's eyes close just as Rachel's hand squeezes.

"I've wanted to do this for a really long time..."

Santana has no words. Flashes of her and Rachel play across the backs of her eyelids like episodes of an old television series. Times they watched movies together on Rachel's couch; times Santana snuck away from her lunch table to seek Rachel out. Times Santana cancelled hanging out with other people only to show up at the midget's house _unannounced_. She opens her eyes with the realization that maybe she wanted this too.

She presses her lips to Rachel's chest; Rachel's hand falls between them as she leans back- her other hand automatically strums through Santana's scalp...clutching, gripping. Santana can feel Rachel's heartbeat thrumming against where her lips are pressed; puckered as she trails pouty kisses down the valley of Rachel's breasts. Rachel's legs are bent at the knees at both sides of Santana's lap. She leans back, Santana's hand supporting the curve at the bottom of Rachel's back until Santana unhooks her bra and tugs it forward. Santana doesn't look away from Rachel's face as she pulls the satin bra down, she stares unwaveringly into Rachel's eyes as it falls from her fingertips. She can only see reassurance on Rachel's face, the only sound between them is Rachel's chanting breaths; huffing out little invitations for Santana to look. She finally breaks eye contact, letting her eyes pick out the longest route across Rachel's flawless skin to take in everything she didn't realize she's been dying to see.

Santana salivates at the sight, bringing her heavy mouth to Rachel's nipple and closing her lips around the tightening nub.

When she sucks, Rachel's breath hitches and she leans back, teetering on the thickness of Santana's erection. Rachel is shuddering, blossoming around the patterns Santana's tongue is making. Santana's hand kneads Rachel's other breast, loving the handful of flesh reacting under her moving palm. Her mouth latches on to the other breast, and she pulls Rachel closer to her at the waist, loving the friction Rachel's writhing body makes against hers.

She navigates Rachel's erogenous zones studiously. She darts her tongue over one of Rachel's ribs, marveling in the breathless mewl she lets out, and when Santana flicks her tongue over the same spot, Rachel tugs that same noise back in before arching her back. Santana maneuvers Rachel off her lap slowly; until she has to straighten her legs to accommodate Santana's moving body. Her hands touch everywhere, her ears eager for new sounds as she uses her mouth and fingertips to goose bump Rachel's skin.

When she kisses her way back up to Rachel's mouth, she lies beside her with their lips still moving. Her hand tickles down Rachel's stomach until her fingers duck beneath fabric. She pulls away breathless from Rachel's mouth seconds later.

"Are you sure?"

Rachel nods, that bottom lip a victim to her teeth again.

"_Say it._"

Rachel licks her lips.

"I want you, Santana... _please_."

Her hand dips into fine curls, rushes through dampness and slips into an incomparable heat. Santana swallows the awe caught in her throat, and slides her fingers from top to bottom...then repeats.

A mangled word dies in Rachel's throat when Santana finds her clit and Rachel husks out Santana's name in a sudden spasm of euphoria. Santana watches her hand stroke beneath the veil of Rachel's panties, her heart chasing the relentless rhythm of Rachel's increasing moans.

Santana is tenting her sweatpants, curled on the side of Rachel's shivering body. They're panting; topless and touching skin wherever it's available. Santana trails a single digit downward, circling Rachel's opening; her hips buck when the movement elicits a gasp from Rachel. Santana leans over to kiss her and simultaneously slides a finger inside her. Rachel huffs open groans around her lips, shallow breaths fall out when Santana pulls out, and glides back in.

Santana watches Rachel's face as she pumps slowly in and out of the girl. Rachel is tight and wet around her finger, and Santana can feel and see every reaction Rachel is having from her ministrations. Santana continues her steady rhythm until her thumb brushes over Rachel's clit again- Rachel shudders, squeezing Santana's arm as she lets out a shaky breath. Santana forces her free hand down her own pants and strokes the length of herself to quell the need she feels to be inside of Rachel.

Rachel can't hold back the noise that rumbles up her throat. Santana pulls her finger out and puts it in her mouth the moment Rachel's eyes drag open. Rachel hisses when she does it, squeezing her thighs and reaching up to taste herself on Santana's tongue. When Rachel falls away from her lips, Santana lifts off the bed slowly, and settles on her knees between Rachel's trembling legs. Santana hooks her finger beneath the waistband of Rachel's underwear, stopping and seeking confirmation. Rachel nods, her eyes finding the ceiling as Santana gently pulls down her panties.

Santana can hear that Rachel has stopped breathing. She catches herself staring at the glistening and inflamed skin of Rachel's sex and she rubs Rachel's thighs to break the spell.

"Do you have condoms?"

Santana's eyes snap to meet Rachel's. Her mind blanks for a few seconds before she closes her mouth and nods, getting off the bed as best she can with her raging erection. Santana makes her way to her brother's room, slipping in and snatching three of the condoms she knows he keeps beneath his mattress. When she puts them in her sweatpants pocket, she takes a moment.

This is really about to happen.

Santana sits abruptly on her brother's bed. She never thought about her first time. She figured if anyone found out she had a penis, they'd scurry away in repulsion. She never really had the time to entertain the thoughts of how it should be- with who it should be with. Rachel is in the other room waiting for her to come back- and Santana realizes that she's kind of scared. She doesn't know how she should feel. She fingers the condoms in her pocket. She isn't going to have sex with Rachel because it's an opportunity; one that she won't get again, probably. She'll have sex with Rachel because she enjoys being around her, because she likes the girl she got to meet since this all began.

She takes a deep breath and stands up.

This is really about to happen.

. . . ( ) . . .

When she gets back to her open door, Rachel's hand is busy between her open thighs. It's highly erotic, seeing her touch herself so freely, completely naked on her bed; waiting for her to return. Santana's breath catches at the sight and Rachel stops immediately, closing her legs around the guilty hand and shuddering around the pressure. Santana says nothing, walking over to the bed and sitting at the foot of it.

"Keep going..."

Rachel looks at her momentarily before opening her legs and stroking her slit (without shame- Santana thinks it's the sexiest thing she's ever seen; this confidence). Santana watches as Rachel works herself up, her back arching and falling with every pass of her finger across her clit. Santana studies Rachel's movements until she can't take the visual without needing to touch her for herself. She wraps and arm around Rachel's waist and pulls her down on the bed. Her mouth latches onto Rachel's clit before the girl can protest and she screams out a melody of made up language at the contact of Santana's tongue against her nerve endings.

Santana mirrors the rhythm Rachel set with her hand, dragging her tongue up and down her slit and flicking lightly over her clit. Rachel tastes better than Breadstix on her tongue- and soon the girl is bucking into her moving mouth with the onslaught of her rapid climax. She feels a violent pulsating against her chin, and Rachel closes her legs around Santana's head. Santana continues lapping at her as she comes. And Rachel holds her name in a long (impressive) note as she crumbles around the residual effects of Santana's tongue.

Santana moves to the edge of the bed before reaching for the condoms she has in her pocket. She pulls her sweats down when she has them gripped in her fist, facing away from Rachel, and she goes to tear one off when she feels a dainty hand flitter across the bottom of her back.

"I want to see you."

No one has ever seen her completely naked. It's nerve wracking to turn to face Rachel, but she forces herself to lay beside the girl completely vulnerable. She finds a spot on the ceiling and she concentrates on it. She's hard, leaking against the space below her belly button. Rachel's hand grazes the underside of her shaft in exploration and Santana has to resist the urge to buck her hips for more contact. She knows how to control her shit (she's no Finncompetence, that's for sure).

She moans when Rachel cups her testicles. Rachel repeats the process, and Santana doesn't look down or over or anywhere, because if she looks she might not be so in control. Rachel picks up speed soon, and the smaller girl leans over to pull a hard nipple into her mouth. Santana gasps, letting her eyes stutter closed as Rachel's hand squeezes around the base of her cock.

Santana has no excuse for the strangled noise that contorts from somewhere inside her.

Rachel's mouth falls away from her breast and she whispers huskily into her ear.

"You're so thick, Santana, I don't know how you'll fit inside me."

Her hips buck on instinct.

Rachel kisses down her jaw and backs away. Rachel takes the condoms Santana's still clenching in her fist and she rips one off before tearing it open. Rachel holds her at the base of her shaft and tries her best to roll the condom over her without faltering (Rachel's hands are shaking). Santana can hear the ragged puffs of breath coming from somewhere, and she makes no move to calm down. _This was really about to happen. _

Rachel sits back on her legs and Santana takes the moment to look away from the ceiling. Rachel's hands were rubbing up and down her thighs, and Santana could see the wheels churning in her head.

"So...how should we- I mean how do you want to..."

There's a tension in the air that feels awkward. She guesses this is how first times usually feel. Santana leans up against the headboard and shrugs.

"Whatever works for you, I guess..."

Rachel nods, and lies down on her back beside Santana. There is a chanting in her head- one that keeps repeating, _Oh my God_, and she can't stop her palms from sweating. She moves over Rachel, her arms supporting most of her weight. Her hair falls over her shoulder and she swipes it backwards before leaning down to kiss Rachel. She's shaking slightly when she pulls away, and she wipes her palms on her own thighs before easing Rachel's legs open further. When she leans forward to kiss Rachel again, Rachel's legs wrap around her waist and Santana can feel the head of her dick pressing against the wet slickness that is Rachel's entrance.

"Go slow at first."

Santana nods before adjusting and she takes a deep breath when she inches into Rachel. All she feels is resistance at first, and she presses forward with more force; only centimeters ahead. Rachel is staring up at her, her mouth falls open in a cautious noise and it sticks at the base of her throat. Rachel swallows the noise and she leans up to wrap her arms around Santana's neck- burying her face in the crook. Santana falls shakily to her elbows to accommodate Rachel's closeness. She steadies herself between Rachel's clenching thighs and takes a breath.

Rachel whispers a quiet _okay _into Santana's ear and she swallows, pressing deeper into the heat and closing her eyes at the contact. The moment is quiet, and Santana has to open her eyes to sober herself to keep going. Rachel's fingernails dig into the back of Santana's neck as she pushes further, feeling a dissipation of pressure before Rachel stops her hips with her legs to keep Santana from moving more. Rachel bites into her shoulder, and she nods again (with this maddening 'mmmhmmm' noise that is thick with pain and pleasure- Santana can't explain why it makes her throb) with her teeth still sunken into Santana's skin for her to keep going. Santana grunts forward, sliding like quicksand into the crazy thumping suffocation of Rachel's wet sex.

Santana swears she can feel her heart beating in tandem with Rachel's. She stares at the flushed girl beneath her; panting with no exertion- full from the thickness of Santana's arousal pulsing inside her. She's never felt this close to someone else before. She swallows that overwhelming feeling that chokes up her throat and she kisses Rachel before tears can fully gather in her eyes. She's never experienced such an intimate moment. Rachel sighs contently against her mouth, and for a moment they get lost in each other's kisses.

Rachel drops her arms and falls to the bed. Rachel shifts against Santana and she's suddenly aware how deeply sheathed she is inside the girl. She loses her breath and suppresses the feeling. She's good at suppression, she's hidden an entire secret penis through puberty; stamina would be no problem. She pulls out of Rachel suddenly, spurred by the exhale of air Rachel takes at her absence and the intake that follows when Santana strokes back inside her.

Santana doesn't have a rhythm, she takes slow, shaky strokes until she gets used to the feeling of Rachel's convulsing walls. Rachel whimpers each time Santana bottoms out, and Santana feels perspiration gather at her brow. She closes her eyes and tries to focus on making this last.

"Look at me..."

Her eyes flutter open at Rachel's command and she finds Rachel's big browns, glassy and shimmering as Santana continues the slow pace.

"Are you okay?"

Rachel nods, and Santana brushes a few strands of hair from her face. Santana doesn't look away when she speeds up, she feels Rachel squeeze and flutter around her shaft, and Rachel starts moaning in a way that sounds like she's agreeing with every move that Santana makes.

"Do you like that?"

Santana pulls out and steals Rachel's breath.

"Hmmmm?"

She drives back in; this time Rachel arches her back to meet the thrust and Santana bucks backwards immediately to stop the friction from doing her in. Rachel puts her hand at the base of Santana's spine and she pulls them until they are joined again. Her shaft feels cool when she pulls out again, the evidence of Rachel's enthusiasm creamy as it bunches at the base of her. Santana thrusts harder, lost in the feeling of being enveloped in Rachel's warmth. She can smell the musk emanating from where their bodies meet, she inhales the heady scent every time she pulls out, pushes back in. There is little resistance left when Santana begins pounding into the girl. Rachel is gritting out little_ oh, oh, oh's _and she's meeting her thrusts in a sporadic pattern, mewling when Santana hits a place deep inside her that forces a savage grunt out of Rachel.

They're sweating.

Santana doesn't think she'll be able to keep her composure; her hips are jittery as she pistons into Rachel's dripping heat. Rachel's fingertips are digging into her back when she feels her balls tighten. She doesn't think she has enough room to finish while still sheathed inside her, everything is too tight and suffocating and Santana feels like she'll pop if she doesn't pull out.

Rachel is chanting her name, her eyes finally closed as she moves in response to Santana's now frantic stroking. Santana is so close...too close when Rachel's muscles grip and squeeze and tickle up her shaft and it's all it takes to push her over the edge.

She pulls out, using her hand to mimic the feeling of being inside of the beautiful girl beneath her. She leans off her, and she comes moments after, Rachel's name strangles from her throat in an incomplete garble of groaning. She's panting heavily by the time she manages to roll off the condom. Rachel is watching her curiously as she disposes of the ruined latex; completely captivated with the mess Santana has made inside it.

Santana pulls the blanket from the bottom of her bed and she wraps it around them. She pulls Rachel to her chest without asking, and Santana's finger draws patterns on Rachel's hip when they're finally comfortable. Santana yawns.

"Did you finish?"

Rachel shakes her head on Santana's chest.

"No, but I think I was close. It felt really good, but I felt more full than anything. I don't think I can comprehend the feeling yet."

Rachel lets out a sleepy sigh and wraps her arm around Santana's naked midsection.

"Does that mean you want to do it again?"

Rachel looks up at her.

"Do you?"

Santana bites her lip. Maybe she does.

"...I guess. Are you sore?"

Santana can feel the burn forming at the base of her spine; her thighs feel like she's done a thousand suicides- Rachel probably feels worse. Santana feels a silly smile spread across her face; totally worth it.

"I feel okay, nothing worse than what I feel after dancing. When do your parents get home?"

It's only Saturday. Santana rarely worries about her parents' whereabouts on the weekend. She thinks for a moment.

"Tomorrow. We have the place to ourselves until then."

Rachel nods. They sit quietly for a while. It's hard to believe that she's not a virgin anymore. Rachel is breathing steadily on her chest, her hand toys with the muscles on Santana's stomach. She sighs her appreciation, closing her eyes as Rachel's hand drags lower.

She can only hear the sounds of Rachel's shifting hand gliding across her skin. A flat palm grazes over her belly button and downward, fingertips stretch even further and tickle her shaft. Rachel grips the soft skin and strokes gently, rubbing the head of her dick with the pad of her thumb. Santana doesn't know if this will lead to having more sex, but she enjoys the feeling of Rachel's delicate hand gripping and caressing her. Rachel's hand navigates upward, tracing lines around the undersides of Santana's breasts, down her sides and tickling the curve of her hips.

She opens her eyes when Rachel kisses her collarbone. Santana bites her lip when Rachel trails kisses all the way down her abdomen. She stops breathing when Rachel's curiosity gets the best of her and she darts out her tongue to taste the tip of her leaking member. She stares openly at the girl sitting between her legs, and she gasps when Rachel fists her slow swelling erection. Rachel strokes her lazily, gathering Santana's precum and lubricating her shaft.

"I don't understand how something so soft can get so hard."

Santana assumes that that is a rhetorical question. She swallows her anticipation and watches as Rachel gets acquainted with her penis. Rachel is seemingly in awe; trying different movements and strokes until Santana is completely hard again and breathless.

Rachel climbs back up her body and kisses her. Santana can't understand how kisses can be so addictive (God why hadn't she done this sooner?).

Rachel leans back, brushing moist folds over Santana's erection. She reaches behind her until she finds the foil wrappers twisted in the sheets. Rachel rolls the condom down her shaft quickly; a fast learner from the first attempt. When Rachel hovers over her erection, Santana inhales the air that Rachel lets out; they're extremely close when Rachel grabs onto her shaft and positions herself over it.

She kisses Santana when she sinks down; slow and hot and still extremely tight; Santana can feel Rachel wince against her mouth. It takes a while for Rachel to bump against her lap. She adjusts until she has support on her knees and Santana's arms wrap delicately around Rachel's hips. She marvels in the fragility of the moment in silence; words too ambiguous to describe how Santana feels.

Santana realizes that what she's feeling isn't just completely physical.

Rachel pulls away from the kiss first, letting out a tiny huff of air and resting her forehead against Santana's while they sit. Neither of them moves, lost in the feeling of being so...together.

"I never thought you would feel this great inside me..."

Santana agrees wholeheartedly. Her stomach is flip flopping. Rachel kisses her lips a few times before wrapping her arms around Santana's neck. She rests her head against Santana's and she inhales deeply. Santana's eyes close, and she feels Rachel's breath as their breasts rub sensuously between them. She feels...attached; linked somehow to the girl sitting on her lap- in sync. Her heart flutters in her chest in a way that feels like longing and Santana has to admit to herself that the feeling she is feeling isn't because of sex.

Santana has never felt so close to someone; she's never voluntarily trusted another human being. It's overwhelming; this feeling. Knowing that she trusts Rachel enough with her secrets; her body. She presses an open mouth kiss to Rachel's lips as she thrusts up into the girl gently. Rachel's fingertips grip at the nape of Santana's neck as Rachel slams down at the same time.

Santana's hands are around Rachel's waist and she grips and adds pressure to Rachel's movement. Rachel impales herself over Santana's dick and Santana thrusts up every time Rachel's ass hits her thighs. Every breath they take is simultaneous; each noise they make complimentary. Santana is lightheaded at the pace Rachel is setting.

"Do you enjoy being inside me?"

Santana nods, leaning forward as she grips Rachel's ass, giving Rachel leverage as she lifts and falls on top of her.

"...tell me how much you like it, Santana."

When she leans back, Rachel is staring at her hungrily. Her eyes are so chocolate that Santana has to look deeper to ensure they aren't black. She falls against the headboard, and for the first time tonight she sees them where they are joined.

Santana gasps aloud.

"You feel incredible around me; I** love** being inside you."

Santana continues thrusting.

"You're so wet," another thrust. "...and warm," she thrusts harder. "... And tight." She grunts and thrusts again; holding the movement until Rachel squeezes around her. "Nothing can compare to this- _nothing_."

Rachel smiles a devilish smile before leaning forward and lifting up. Santana can feel herself curve inside the smaller girl. When Rachel leans all the way back, she can see how thick she looks with Rachel wrapped around her cock. Rachel pulls a lazy hand down to her clit, and she rubs unmeasured strokes over it as she rises and falls.

Rachel's moans sound like interrupted thoughts as she continues to mewl on Santana's lap. Santana feels the pressure of Rachel's body on top of her; the extra weight collapsing over her as she thrusts. She can hear their skin meeting; a sticky wet slick sound that ends with the wet thump of her balls against Rachel's moving body. Santana is on the brink when she wraps her arm around Rachel and pulls her close, thrusting up with abandon. Rachel stops rising and falling; choosing instead to rest her head on Santana's shoulder to take the brunt of Santana's strokes.

Santana feels the flutter happening around her shaft. Rachel begins trembling, abrupt intakes of breath forming hiccups around Rachel's words as she begins screaming.

"Yes, please... _Don't stop."_

Santana likes the desperation in her voice. She doesn't know how much longer she can do this without exploding; but she continues, gritting Rachel's name out through her clenched teeth.

Santana feels like this would be a wonderful opportunity to talk shit (come on, it's hard to make Rachel Berry beg for anything), but she can't force the words out past her throat.

"Right there, please don't move I'm so c-close."

Santana's toes are curling; and she is scooting into her relentless thrusts and Rachel is pushing down as she pushes up and suddenly-

Rachel is climaxing around her- and _**hard.**_

"Yes,** yes**,_ I'm gonna come_!"

Rachel chokes it out like an accusation; her face is twisting with tension before her eyes flutter backward and her jaw slackens with her climax. Santana continues pumping into her; trying to ignore the gripping muscles convulsing around her dick. Santana feels a violent pulse and gush coming from where they are joined. Rachel's arms are clutching her shoulders and Santana feels Rachel stroke her cock without moving her body. She stops moving when Rachel lets out a mewl that starts in her stomach and rips from her throat- and her walls tug and grip at Santana's throbbing cock. Her orgasm ripples down Santana's shaft in waves. When Santana tries to thrust upward again, she is met with a thundering squeeze, and Rachel's body pushes her dick out sloppily; creamy wet remnants of Rachel's arousal thick on her condom (which has managed to roll up some). Santana rests her head against the headboard until Rachel's voice is reduced to whimpers; until the girl falls against her chest and allows her body to recuperate.

Santana's breath is erratic, she's still extremely hard, and she can't help but need for Rachel to help get her off. Rachel is seconds away from sleep when Santana rolls them on their side. She doesn't think Rachel is up for anything else. She rolls the unfilled condom off before tossing over the edge of the bed blindly, and she settles on her back beside a not so awake Berry.

She sighs contently, her body buzzing. She needs release; and she almost gets off the bed to spend some time alone in the bathroom when Rachel turns to face her- sleepy and sated with a spark in her eye that's suggestive enough to make Santana's dick twitch. Her breaths start to rise and fall at that same heavy, erratic pace and Santana watches from outside herself as Rachel crawls between her legs.

"I want to know what it feels like for you to come inside me..."

Santana almost chokes on the drool in her mouth when Rachel goes for it, sticking her tongue out and leaving a wet trail from the head of her penis to the base. She looks Santana directly in the eye as she drags her tongue back to the tip before Santana's cock disappears inside Rachel's mouth.

It's a different feeling all together; and Santana is thankful for Rachel's curiosity- especially when Rachel hallows her cheeks and sucks hard down the shaft. This won't last long; Rachel starts a rhythm that winds up making Santana's body go crazy, and just when Santana doesn't think it could get any better, Rachel swallows her entire length to the hilt.

And then she hums.

Her hands gather as much of Rachel's hair as she can and she grips lightly at the scalp. Rachel is singing some tune and Santana feels it tickle at the back of Rachel's throat. She feels the burn in her stomach, she starts to pump lightly into Rachel's talented mouth; loving the fact that Rachel doesn't gag- loving Rachel's mouth _period _as Rachel's tongue flicks over the vein bulging at the bottom of her dick.

Santana feels it before Rachel knows, it climbs up her shaft from the base of her balls and it feels hot as it rips out of her and spurts down Rachel's throat. Rachel is unprepared, but she realizes what's happening and she begins to suck and swallow simultaneously; and Santana can't help the long guttural grunt she lets loose as her body tenses. She lets Rachel's hair go to pump the orgasm into her mouth. Rachel swallows most of her load before she fists the bottom of Santana's prick; Santana's head falls back as Rachel pumps the rest of her semen unabashedly on her chest.

Santana almost hardens instantly when Rachel takes her finger and swipes some off before putting it into her mouth.

"Did I do okay?"

Santana is completely entranced. She'll do anything this girl asks; anything.

"Definitely."

Rachel bashfully smiles at her before she all but skips off the bed and into the bathroom to freshen up. Santana has to pinch herself to make sure this isn't another wet dream.

. . . ( ) . . .

When Santana wakes again, it's dark outside. She's surprised to see Rachel snuggled against her chest, still naked pressed against her (and totally knocked out). She's also surprised at the sore ache that she feels over most of her body. Santana is amazed at how many places can hurt that she hadn't known existed before today.

Santana could stay this way forever. Cocooned in this little bubble with Berry. She hates that she can see this going somewhere. Santana can see this going past sex and reputation and everything else that she's been working hard at keeping status quo.

The dreamy (and totally un-Santana Lopez-like) sigh she lets out jars Rachel from her sleep. She lifts her head from Santana's chest before smoothing down unkempt strands of hair. She smiles sheepishly at Santana before sitting up and stretching.

"Did we really sleep all day?"

"Mmmmmhmmm, girl. Snoring and everything."

Rachel rolls her eyes dramatically, and Santana smirks as she gets up to find clothing. Rachel watches from the bed as Santana tugs on a pair of shorts and a tank before she throws Rachel's t-shirt and underwear at her.

"You hungry, midget?"

Rachel nods, pulling on the clothes before following Santana down the stairs.

. . . ( ) . . .

There is only one vegan option in the Lopez household, and Rachel insists that she help Santana make pancakes (even though it's the powder stuff that she only adds water to; she lets Rachel help because she looks kinda hot prancing around with only her t-shirt with her panties on). Rachel cuts up strawberries she found in the bottom of Santana's fridge and they walk barefoot around the kitchen until they meet at the center island.

"Now, I don't like tooting my own horn, but these pancakes will bees the best pancakes you've ever had."

Rachel smirks.

"What happens if they aren't?"

Santana shrugs.

"If they aren't... I'll owe you a proper meal, Hobbs."

Rachel smiles.

"Are you asking me on a date, Miss Lopez?"

Santana can't help the tense that stiffens her shoulders. She hates that it reaches her frame before she can cover it up. She shakes it off at the same time Rachel begins sputtering.

"I- I didn't mean it that way. I know today was a onetime thing. I guess I couldn't help myself."

The little half shrug Rachel gives her makes Santana want to hug the girl. She pours pancake batter into the pan instead, choosing to ignore the comment altogether. Quiet stretches between them uneasily. Rachel's eyes shift hesitantly between the skillet and Santana's face- the midget's hands are toying with a dish towel by the stove, and Santana can't help but notice the corner of Rachel's bottom lip tucked beneath her teeth.

She flips the pancakes.

"Look I didn't mean it like that okay- don't give me that kicked kitten look, Berry. I made myself very clear before anything went down-"

Rachel lets out a sigh.

"I know. You did. It just slipped, honestly."

Silence settles again and Santana pulls the first two pancakes from the fire. Santana makes two larger ones in the skillet before dipping her finger into the strawberry flavored gunk in her mixing bowl. She smirks, brushing a single stripe on the tip of Rachel's nose.

"You're going to regret that, Santana Lopez!"

With a huff of indignation, Rachel leans over the island and dips two fingers into the bowl. Santana backs away in time to miss the mess when Rachel flings it- but she has no time to slow down as the tiny girl hops off her stool and begins chasing her around the kitchen.

Soon they're both covered in random splotches of drying batter and smushed strawberries. Santana is panting beneath Rachel on the floor where the dwarf finally managed to grab her ankles and drag her down. They are tangled in each other, bare- sticky skin smushed between the weight of their bodies. Santana can't help but stare into Rachel's eyes as they catch their breath together- lost in the unwavering challenge she finds there.

Rachel leans down to kiss her first, soft lips slow on top of Santana's; cautious and hesitant in the movement. Santana gets lost in Rachel quickly, and she tries to crash their body parts together in an effort to disappear in Rachel's skin.

Santana feels like there are bells ringing in her ears. Seconds later, she realizes that it is actually the sound of the smoke detector, alerting them of the pancakes still burning on the stove. Rachel pulls off her to turn off the burner, and they both proceed to fan the smoke away from the detector near the doorway.

When they manage to clear the room, Santana puts the two pancakes she did manage to make onto plates and they sit at the kitchen table together to eat. Santana hates the feeling knotting her stomach. She is so relaxed around Rachel. She no doubt enjoys spending time with the girl, but she can't help the worry that taints the giddy feeling inside. She isn't ready for a girlfriend, or being out, or anything serious. She isn't ready for the responsibility that comes with a relationship. Santana knows she won't lose Rachel as a friend, but she is worried that passing up on being with her romantically might be a mistake.

"I really do like you, Rach; I just don't think I can be your girlfriend. I want to be with you, but... I'm not ready for everything that comes with it ya know?"

Rachel nods finitely.

"We'll still be friends, right?"

Santana nods and swallows.

"Of course we will. Who else would watch old John Wayne movies with you? I just- I can't be the girl who stands up for you in public and I can't take you out on dates and go to school dances."

Rachel straightens in her seat.

"What if I don't want all that stuff? I- I don't need everyone to know about, I like having something private...I like having you to myself."

Santana chuckles.

"...and I also know the kind of bigots who live here. I know the kinds of extremes people go through to torment people for things they can't control." Santana focuses her eyes somewhere else when Rachel says that. "...And besides, it's not like much would change. We've been spending time together outside of school anyway. You sit with me in the choir room at lunch. Quinn and Brittany both know we're friends."

Santana thinks about it. Rachel's right. Not much would change between them... Except-

"I guess... I don't know how I would have gotten along knowing how you kiss and not being able to kiss you when I want to."

The old Santana would have definitely made fun of the stupid grins on both their faces. The new one just enjoys the reason it's there.

"So what does this mean, Berry? We get matching charm bracelets and have secret late night rendezvous that may or may not involve covert missions to breadsticks? We find a janitors closet at school to get our mack on? Like, what now?"

Rachel thinks to herself for a moment. Santana has to look away when Rachel opens her mouth to chew a bite of pancake (gosh the things that have been in Rachel's mouth these last few hours). She shakes her head to stop her libido from raging.

"Nothing. I guess we just do as we were. We hang out at school and when we're home we reap the benefits of being together. And you won't date anyone else, and neither will I, and when we're alone… I'm going to call you my _girlfriend_."

Rachel sing songs it.

"I can gets with that." Santana shoves the last of her pancake into her mouth to stop the stupid grin from spreading on her cheeks. She stands up, sweeping away her dish from the table. She rinses it off in the sink before putting it in the dishwasher. She turns back to Rachel, who just finished her last bite, before leaning against the sink.

"You gonna help me clean up, Hobbs?"

Santana's arms cross over her chest.

"So this name calling will only continue, I presume? And I will help you clean up if you ask me properly."

The smirk tugs at Santana's mouth at the tone in Rachel's voice.

"I told you before this whole thing started that the names won't go away. That's how I roll."

She grabs the broom and starts to sweep up dried batter from the floor. Speaking of how things started between them-

"Will you destroy the picture still?"

Santana has been wondering about that since the night before. She feels like it should be some unspoken rule that Rachel burns it immediately (Santana knows all too well how certain things just seem to get out around this town). Rachel gets up slowly, walking around Santana to wash her dish out in the sink. She takes an incredibly long time to do so, and Santana realizes quickly that Rachel is avoiding staring her in the eye on purpose.

"What'd you do with the picture? If you sent it to that little Jewfro I swear I will ends you-"

Rachel whips around, words spilling from her mouth like a leaky faucet.

"I didn't send it to anyone, I just...well; it's quite funny actually- once you hear it I'm sure you'll laugh about it too-"

Rachel is fidgeting with her hands and talking herself into circles by the time the broom drops from Santana's hand. Santana's foot taps impatiently on the linoleum and her arms go back to their perch across her chest.

"Spit it out, Rachel."

Santana expects the worst to come out of Berry's mouth.

"Inevertookthepicture."

_What_.

"What?"

Rachel sighs, it's heavy and deep and she stares down at her hands as she slows down her speech.

"I said," Rachel clears her throat. "...I never took the picture. Honestly, when I saw you...having a wet dream I was intrigued. I couldn't help but watch and when you woke up I just... I was afraid you were actually going to hit me. If I didn't have any leverage against you, I wouldn't have made it out of the room unscathed. The rest just _happened_; blame this entire ordeal on my superb quick headedness and on the mark improvisational skills."

It's quiet. Santana is staring at Rachel (who can't seem to stop fidgeting) and Santana can't really believe that she hadn't seen through the entire sham.

"It doesn't make it worse...that you didn't take the picture. I guess in some ways it makes things less shady. I'm not upset-"

Rachel lets loose a breath Santana hadn't notice she was holding before continuing.

"The more time we spent together, Santana, I just thought it wasn't important to tell you that I didn't have any collateral. I was afraid you wouldn't want to be my friend if you knew. I know it's selfish but... I didn't have any other choice."

Santana nods, sauntering slowly up to Rachel. She stops centimeters in front of her before meeting her deep big browns. She leans in slowly, inhaling the shallow breaths coming from a nervous Rachel before tilting her head and kissing the girl with a smirk still playing on her lips.

"Well, Rach, you definitely made a good call... So win win."

They kiss slowly for a while, pressed against the sink. Santana pulls away, flushed, tension easing out of Rachel's shoulders as they stare giddily into each other's eyes. Rachel wraps her arms loosely around Santana's neck before kissing her again. _Definitely a win win,_ Santana thinks to herself as Rachel slips her the tongue.

End

Decided not to edit this…so I apologize for any typos. They'll be fixed when I feel like rereading this.


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